Truly Content
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: A sneak peek into the relationship of Gibbs and Abby. Purchased by driftingatdusk in the NFA Haitit Relief Auction. She requested a Gibbs/Abby ficlet with the prompt 'no regrets.' I think I may have strayed from the prompt just a wee bit.


She sits in the basement wearing his NIS sweatshirt. He keeps a large, cushy chair down there for her. She loves curling up on it, pulling her knees up to her chest and tightly wrapping her arms around them. Often times she falls asleep there, but when she wakes up she's in his bed, snugly surrounded by the blankets. Sometimes he's there with her.

It took a while for her to get used to his sleeping habits, or lack thereof. They would fall asleep together, but she would awake only a couple of hours later to find him gone. She always knew where he was, but it was so inconvenient to trek down to the cold and drafty basement. Sure enough, there he would be, working away on his boat. He'd barely look up as she came down, his entire focus on his work.

It wasn't that she found boat building to be boring; quite the opposite, actually. But at night she liked to be in bed, her body intertwined with his.

"You don't need to stay down here," he said on many occasions.

She always shrugged tiredly in reply. "I'm fine. I like the smell of sawdust."

Oddly enough, now she can't imagine spending her night anywhere else but in this basement. The sounds of tools scraping against wood, the soft chill, and, especially, that smell of sawdust, are strangely comforting to her. Maybe it's because she associates these things with him.

The sounds stop, replaced by the sound of his heavy footsteps. Even with her eyes closed she can sense him beside her. "You okay, Abbs?"

"Mm-hm," she murmurs lazily.

"Want me to bring you back upstairs?"

She shakes her head. "I want to stay here with you."

He smiles and scoops her up. Then he sits in her place, cradling her in his lap. She leans in as he encases her within his arms, planting a gentle kiss atop her head. Her pitch black hair falls across her face, covering it so that all he can see are her bright green eyes peeking out.

"You're happy, right, Abbs?" he asks. His hand is running down her bare leg, caressing it with the same care he uses when sanding his boat. Her skin is far smoother than wood.

"Of course," is her soft response. He always asks this. "I am very, very happy."

"No regrets?"

At that she sits up, staring at him with great wonder. "Gibbs, how can you even ask that?"

"Come on, Abbs. I know I'm not really the romance type. I'm anti-social and would rather spend time with a boat than with people. I go through bourbon like you go through Caf-Pows. I'm not what you'd call warm or humorous." He snakes his arm around her neck, resting his hand on the side of her head and gently pulling it in toward his shoulder. "I don't want to hold you back."

"Who says you're holding me back?"

"You're saying you like sitting down here at night watching me build boat after boat? I know you, Abby; you like going out to the bars, going to those loud concerts, and doing things. You're my exact opposite in that respect."

It is true, Abby has a greater flare for life than Gibbs does. She enjoys going out and experiencing it to the fullest whereas he is content to let it pass by while he focuses on other things. She would be lying if she says she doesn't sometimes wish he would go out with her. Maybe not to the concerts (she knows she can get him to do a lot, but that is something even she wouldn't push) but to the bars and parties she frequents.

"I'm content with the way we are," she says. And she means it.

He's dubious, but doesn't question her. "Well, if you ever decide you _aren't_ content with all of this, I won't blame you for wanting out."

"You'd have to force me out, kicking and screaming and all."

Gibbs doesn't move; he sits there, Abby nestled against him, his hand absently stroking her hair. "You don't need to sit here with me," she assures him. "You can go work on the boat."

"Not really in a working mood," he replies.

Moments later she's asleep. He slips his hands beneath her body and lifts her. He takes the stairs carefully, not wanting to wake her, and finally deposits her in his bed. He has no desire to sleep, but he won't leave her there alone. He takes his place beside her and carefully drapes on arm across her waist.

He's never been a big fan of the cuddling aspect of a relationship, not since Shannon died. Yet with Abby, he finds himself drawn to just that. Feeling her thin, soft body within his own, enjoying her, not just within the limits of carnal pleasures…it makes him feel more human than he has in a long time.

And he is content.


End file.
